My wife said she’d found a fine Chippendale
With a chest and legs ever so strong
I asked her to say what they looked like
She said they were thick set and long
My antique collection was lacking
A quality piece of this sort
I asked would she like it for Christmas
If so I would see it got bought
Her eyes gleamed I thought she was crying
Then happiness let out a squeal
Would two or three grand be sufficient
Oh yes she said that’s just ideal
Describing an ebony lustre
Great locks that were shiny jet black
I filled out a cheque for three thousand
She went but she never came back?
© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem